


An Unexpected Inheritance

by LepidusLacrimae



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Dursleys, All consensual sex between main pairing, Anal Sex, Bottom Harry Potter, Consensual Sex, Creature Fic, Creature Harry, Creature Harry Potter, Creature Inheritance, Dom Severus Snape, Dom/sub, Eventual Smut, Light BDSM, M/M, Non Consensual advances (Not within main pairing), Oral Sex, Protective Snape, Smut, Sub Harry Potter, Submissive Harry Potter, Top Severus Snape
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 21:37:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10602759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LepidusLacrimae/pseuds/LepidusLacrimae
Summary: Harry Potter is faced with a rather shocking change on August 1, 1997, or the day after his seventeenth birthday. How will he, and Severus Snape, react as this advances to a point that involves them  both to a rather severe degree?Please read, recommend, review. Thanks dears





	

August 1, 1997

White light. I attempt to stretch my eyelids open, but the burning light isn’t worth the ability to see. I close my eyes, but of course even then that light manages to get in, making that serene darkness a faded grey. An obnoxiously high screech from downstairs which somehow resembles my name forces a sigh from my stagnant body, and my eyes are slowly forced open. I sit there, staring into that terrible light and forcing my eyes to adjust. Finally, my eyes are able to see into the day with only a slight amount of pain, though my surroundings remain an indescribable blur before my bare eyes.

I lift my hand, grasping for my glasses which usually lie beside me on the creaking wood planks of the floor. I am unable to find the cool glass to wrap my fingers around, and so I turn to look for them, though obviously that is not much help. Ah, I forgot. Uncle Vernon had broken the glasses after the beating of three day’s ago, and so all that was left was crumbled shards of glass and bent wire, which was currently hidden under the floorboard by the window, in the silly hope that perhaps I would be able to repairo them come September 1st.

And so, I force my legs up, and make my way toward the door to wait for the familiar sliding of the many locks so I would be able to go to begin my chores, and perhaps, hopefully, sneak in a moment in the restroom. I frown as I stand, finding, even with the blur of the world through my blind eyes, that the top of the door seems to be slightly farther away. As I walk toward the door, my steps tentative and sparing in my exhaustion and constant hunger, I find that my observation is correct. The top of the door seems to be at least two more inches away, perhaps a sparing difference to you, the reader, but as I have always been short this was rather devastating. So, of course it was rather noticeable in my mind. 

The sudden clunk of the many locks sliding open by my dear aunt is heard, and I immediately brace myself for the storm of insults and disgust that is sure to come with the opening door. The door opens, just a crack, as if my aunt is afraid of me rather than only disgusted, which, in my mind, is far worse. She doesn’t open it all the way. 

“Freak!” and the slam of the door. I hear the clatter of footsteps storm down the stairs, then the door fly open as my aunt runs out, and I am left alone. A sudden sense of thrill swarms through me as I realize that she had forgotten to lock my door, and so I could take some food and only have to suffer a beating as a consequence, which is far more preferable to the dark hole that is hunger. 

This sudden realization had me fleeing out the door, perhaps resembling a deer in my haste, and I softly dash down the stairs, the collision of my bare feet and the carpeted stairs not making a noise. I enter the kitchen, which is a mess with crumbled food and toast crusts on the table, and open the fridge which is luckily unlocked in my aunt’s oddness. I devour a moldy apple, my body taste buds salivating in an attempt to neutralize the sugars of the fruit, and as fast as the fruit is consumed-  
It comes back up.

I immediately feel the sensation of the near destiny of vomiting, that familiar twisting of my intestines, the revolting taste of my stomach acid slowly making its way up my esophagus, and I know to immediately run to the restroom. Blood may stain terribly, but vomit is by far the worst fluid to clean in its long lasting stench and texture. 

The door to the restroom is at the far left of the kitchen, and I manage to clash into the door and relieve my stomach into the (luckily and disgustingly) open toilet. When my stomach is finished, and only the remnants of acidic clumps of fruit remain in my throat, I sit on the floor beside the open toilet, trying my hardest to ignore the stickiness surrounding the base of the toilet as a result of my uncle’s drunken nights and my cousin’s haste. I spit up the last bit of substance which I managed to coax up from my burning throat, and push my body up on trembling knees, which cause me to come face to face with the full length mirror positioned on the back of the beige door which I slammed so carelessly.

Oh dear. 

The boy shown in the mirror was certainly not the boy of yesterday. 

The boy in the mirror had a height of about 5’1, a thin body type with a girlish widening of the hips and tightening above the waist. He had hair the colour of a midnight sky, coloured a peculiar black with odd blue hints when seen in certain lights, that graced the small of his back. He had a much more narrow face, high cheekbones form his face rather than that sharp square jawline of the previous day. His skin also seems to be much more pale, and I couldn’t help but notice that the acne of the teenage boy I was yesterday seemed to disappear with my other characteristics. My nose is smaller, and a long bridge causes my facial shape to seem even more deer like in its narrowness. My lips are larger, a defined cupid's bow graces the thin upper lip and a larger lower lip gives my face an expression of pouting. My eyes are more vibrant, as if I finally was given enough sleep, and I couldn’t help but notice the definition of my eyebrows that seemed groomed in their perfection. 

I seemed, embarrassingly as it is to say, more feminine in nature.

Now I realized why my aunt had ran out in her shock, and I couldn’t help but want to do the same. A change in appearance like this has a much larger effect that you would guess.

But, as I am resigned to my fate, I move back to the kitchen where I will take the toast crusts and soak them in water, then chew them to a further mush before swallowing them and gracing my body with a farther distance from hunger. 

Until September 1st, my dear reader.


End file.
